


The Elf and The Stag: Something of an Epic

by friedhotsauce



Series: Words to Middle-Earth [6]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Blood, Epic Poetry, Free Verse, Gen, Mild Gore, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedhotsauce/pseuds/friedhotsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Tauriel, you truly are, wild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He commands her

To destroy the beast

He has no use for it any longer

It is old 

And dilapidated

“Take him out of his misery.” The king gently suggests

But Tauriel

Is in deep love with nature

Spiders and other atrocities

Those are a different story

They are dark creatures

And she has no friendship

With such abominations

But the elk

Thranduil’s silver stag

She is mystified by the animal

Tauriel’s breath 

Catches in her throat

Whenever she sees the beast

With his glassy hooves

And canopy-like antlers

This creature could not be of the earth

But rather

Of the stars

Tauriel’s admiration for the stag

Almost turns into

Worship

 

Blood was to be spilt upon the safety of grass

On the signal of the likewise sky

But the captain

Is restless in her chambers

And is furious with the daylight

She has readied herself for mourning

And disallows food or drink to pass her lips

Until the deed is through

 

Enough is enough

Tauriel is certain that

Sunset will never arrive

She gallops to the stables

Then realizes

She has made a mistake 

In letting herself go hungry

 

Tauriel leads the naïve animal from his lodgings

She tries to hide her despair

As the stag follows with the utmost

Kind obedience

They arrive at a clearing

The captain is glad to know

The creature’s last sight 

Will be that of his birthplace

She kisses the elk’s neck

And tries to spit away the fur

That has plastered onto her painted lips

A few strands sneak onto her tongue

Tauriel pauses

Was elk fur ever meant to be sweet?

She kisses the animal again

Now it’s for certain that

The captain’s hunger

Is getting the best of her

She covers the stag 

With pink stains

From her mouth

Her taste buds sway

With the sugary warmth

The fur provides

 

The stag stands

Ever so patient

As if he had expected this

All along

Tauriel feels his rib cage expand and shrink

With sudden intensity

Was it a sigh of relief?

Mind enveloped in hyper disorientation

She goes to face the elk

Clutching his muzzle

She bends to kiss it when

His eyes catch Tauriel’s

They are a solid black

But not like the night

Black like perfectly ripened olives

Tauriel loves olives

 

How her robes came to be discarded of

She does not care to know

In a trance of hunger

And bloody ecstasy

The captain houses her naked skin 

In a gown of throbbing meat

Large intestines make her skirt

And a vest of lungs hides her breasts

The garments are bound together

By stringing, purple nerves

With her unfailing dagger

Tauriel digs deeper into her feast

The sting of taking

Such a magnificent life

Is long beyond her now

As she made the wise decision

In taking the olive-eyes first

 

Tauriel finds her body is

Begging for rest

The exertion has gone too far

_Not yet, just wait_

She hushes her whining spirit

For the captain

Has not yet devoured 

The last course

 

The heart is as 

Still as the moon is

During the day and night

Tauriel holds the organ

To her own chest

As if comparing cousins

Then punctures a single canine tooth

Into the red dessert

She stretches her arms

And the heart is directly over her crown

The elf laughs

And cries

As the acidic wine

Cascades from its 

Fleshy vessel

Glistening in the sunlight

It seems as if the blood

Is instead, trickling rubies

In her state and condition

Tauriel could care less if it really was

Sharp and jagged

Precious stone

Sliding down her throat

As she was sure at this point

It was impossible to feel pain

 

The always-neutral-faced captain

Bathes in blood

She orgasms

In all its 

Thick, steaming, scarlet

Beauty

And finally collapses her

Self-battered body into

The hollow of the elk

Tauriel’s breath flutters fast

 Like a panicked hummingbird

Choking on her own passion

The captain

Who has been through many violent excursions

Feels as if she has been flung from the highest of cliffs

By the person she trusts the most

Herself

And with that thought

Tauriel smiles

She longs to repeat this 

Adventure

 

Suddenly

A spider

Scuttles excitedly

To its already-marinated meal

The insect is wild

But so is she

The daughter of the forest

Gulps in the rusty

Blood-laden air

And roars

Tauriel roars

And hopes it reaches the heavens

So that even the vainest of deities

Separate from their diamond mirrors

To peer down from their clouds

And become dazed

At the power a simple, Silvan she-elf

Is capable of

Maybe to even become so enamoured

They drop from their eternal homes

There is no doubt

They would curse at Tauriel for her hypnosis 

But will nonetheless feel obliged to 

Kiss her feet

And bow deeply before her 

Wrath

 

The arachnid stops

Just feet from the elf

Tauriel stares deep at the 

Numerous pairs of eyes

She is disgusted

They do not at all resemble olives

The spider seems to sense her discontent

And gazes down

As if he is ashamed for

Not seeming tasty enough

In this moment

The captain notices

How plush

Spider hair looks to be

The parts of her exposed skin tingle at the sudden

Blast of cold air 

Swishing from the west

Winter will soon be upon Mirkwood

And timing could not have been more

Perfect


	2. Chapter 2

Great Valar

Thranduil is speechless

He sees her

Clothed in the furry hides

Of the freshly skinned spider

Tauriel turns to her king

And curtsies 

Mockingly

The bloody war paint

That marks her cheeks

Streaks messily

By droplets of perspiration

“Tauriel, what is the meaning of this?”

The captain

Is clearly not herself

She has aligned with the wild

And has become haunted by the beastly soul

Of the brutally slain elk

With blazing eyes

Tauriel leaps over her

Prized carcasses

And nears the king 

A wicked smile graces her lips

“How may I be of service to you, your highness?”

“Stop this madness at once!”

He orders harshly

But there is a quiver in his voice

Tauriel immediately senses 

The wavering confidence

The king does not reach out

Or call out

To stop the captain

As she traces

Spirals with her fingernails

Into the skin over

His collar bone

Thranduil monitors his own breath

As if a sudden sharp inhale

Would cease his heart

Right then and there

 

Again

He is speechless

And Tauriel loves his silence

She lifts her panting mouth

To his bejewelled forehead

And rests her lips to the paleness

Ever-so-softly

 

The maiden retreats

Thranduil tries to hold his own

But falters

Oh how he falters 

So laughably 

The king leans on to a tree trunk

And feels a sickness 

Overcome him

The ruler of Mirkwood

Fears for his life

Tauriel

In her animalistic glory

Moves to his pointed ear

“Goodnight, my king.”

She whispers

Then takes a

Great, gaping

Bite

Into Thranduil’s shoulder

 

He lies in a pool

Not of his blood

But of his sweat

Rising from the crumbling sheets

Thranduil studies his features

In a watery mirror

Untouched

Not even a slight nick

Anywhere in sight

Yet his shoulder

Burns

The king rushes out of his chambers

And finds the original Tauriel

Working in the martial cabins

 

She peers at him quizzically

“What brings you here at this hour, my lord?”

He stares at Tauriel so intensely

She feels as if he has slammed her into

A wall

Thranduil’s brow softens

Within seconds

His emotions are in limbo

But the king manages to stay 

Largely impressed

By the captain he had 

Observed in his dream

Does such savagery truly linger

In her Silvan veins?

 

“Do not slay the elk.”

“If you wish it, I will not.”

Thranduil exits

Only to return

“Tauriel.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Slay the elk.”

“If you wish it, I will.”

“But,”

“But?”

“I will be accompanying you on the excursion.”

“Your majesty?”

“My request troubles you?”

“With all due respect, what business does the king have with the slaying of lame animals?”

Thranduil’s tired eyes

Grow wide and malevolent 

But he thinks he sends a

Look of love-lorn

Passion

“I want to watch you.”


End file.
